Safeguard
by Dani-Ellie03
Summary: "We'll get another lead sooner rather than later, and I promise you, we will find Henry. Right now, though, I'm more concerned about you. What happened?" "Tree root," Emma grumbled, glaring in the direction of the exposed root. "I tripped on it and twisted my ankle. I can move it so it's not broken but ..." "You can't stand on it," David finished for her.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Safeguard  
**Summary: **"We'll get another lead sooner rather than later, and I promise you, we will find Henry. Right now, though, I'm more concerned about you. What happened?" "Tree root," Emma grumbled, glaring in the direction of the exposed root. "I tripped on it and twisted my ankle. I can move it so it's not broken but ..." "You can't stand on it," David finished for her.  
**Spoilers:** Set post-3x01, "The Heart of the Truest Believer."  
**Rating/Warning: **T, for language, mostly. Family fluff and hurt/comfort, because yes.  
**Disclaimer:** _Once Upon a Time_ and its characters were created by Eddie Kitsis and Adam Horowitz and are owned by ABC. I borrowed them because it's going to be a very long three months until we get some new material.  
**Author's Note:** Xelbie asked me many moons ago for a story involving Emma getting injured in some way and Charming having to take care of her. So be prepared for some father/daughter goodness as this progresses, along with a dose of mother/daughter bonding and probably some pre-Captain Swan flirtation, just because I don't think I'll be able to restrain myself. ;) Feedback makes me a happy girl. Enjoy!

* * *

"Emma!" David called after her. "Emma, slow down!"

Though she'd heard him, Emma Swan did not make any effort to slow down. The Lost Boy she was chasing certainly wasn't going to slow down. They hadn't even been in Neverland for two full days yet, and she'd already had enough of it. All she wanted was to get Henry back and then get the hell off this damn island. If the kid currently leading her on a whirlwind tour of the jungle could help her with either of those two goals, she was not about to let him get away.

The boy turned a corner on the path and headed down into some kind of ravine. Emma skidded a little on the wet leaves covering the jungle floor as she made the sharp turn, but she swiftly regained her footing. The humidity hanging in the Neverland air made everything damp and wilted, including the leaves on the ground.

As a matter of fact, the air here reminded her of the oppressively hot days during a Boston summer, when the temperature would climb into the high nineties with one hundred percent humidity. When the air was too thick to breathe and everything was limp and heavy. At least in Boston, the inevitable drenching thunderstorm would break the humidity and cool everything off. She highly doubted that would happen in Neverland.

Her father's footsteps pounded the ground as he ran behind her. From the sound of it, he'd caught up with her but she couldn't chance looking over her shoulder to check. The Lost Boy was pulling ahead of her. He knew the terrain; he had home-field advantage. She couldn't take her eyes off him for a second.

Emma was so focused on trying to keep the Lost Boy in her sight that she never saw the exposed tree root sticking up through the blanket of leaves. Her toe caught on the root and her right ankle wrenched painfully as she tumbled to the ground, landing hard on her hands and knees. "Ow! Shit!"

"Emma!"

David was by her side within a fraction of a second but she immediately shook her head at him. "Not me, David, him! He's getting away!"

He looked torn. The grandfather within him did not want to let anyone who could have information on the whereabouts of his grandson slip away but the father within him didn't want to leave his little girl alone and injured in the Neverland jungle.

Emma made the decision for him. "I'm fine," she insisted, waving her hand after the boy. "Go! I'm right behind you."

Swallowing hard, David gave her a nod and then took off in a sprint, simultaneously giving chase and trying to make up the distance they'd lost. Emma watched him go and then, panting heavily from both her run through the jungle and the pain of her fall, she tried to stand.

That was a really, really bad idea. The second she attempted to put weight on her injured ankle, she crashed right back down to the jungle floor. A stronger expletive escaped her lips as she smacked her palm against the ground in anger.

Well, now what? Okay, first things first. Since she couldn't get up and run, she needed to get the hell out of plain sight. She was a sitting duck at the moment. The last thing she needed was for that Lost Boy to have a buddy out there somewhere, ready to kick her while she was down. After all, the reason she'd been chasing him at all was because she'd caught him spying on them. He was reporting to someone somewhere; that much was obvious.

Using her arms and her good leg, Emma managed to clumsily crab-walk off the path and huddle behind the trunk of the tree that had tripped her in the first place. The damn thing might as well be useful for _something_.

Second things second. She needed to determine the extent of her injury. Sitting with her back against the tree trunk, she pulled her knees towards her and placed both feet flat on the ground. She took a deep breath, set her shoulders, and once again attempted to put weight on her ankle. A sharp stab of pain shot up her shin, and she slumped back against the tree, utterly defeated.

All right, that test was an abysmal failure. How about range of motion? After taking another deep breath, she bit her lip, lifted her foot off the ground, and attempted to move it.

Though it hurt like friggin' hell, she could indeed move it. Up, down, left, and right. She even attempted a full circle and succeeded. It _killed_, but she did it. Whimpering softly, she lowered her foot back to the ground. Okay, so it wasn't broken. That was definitely good. Sprained, maybe. Wrenched, definitely, but not broken.

"Emma?"

Her father's voice floated up to her from somewhere towards the bottom of the ravine. What the hell was he doing? He was supposed to be chasing after the Lost Boy!

Before she a chance to holler that exact question back at him, he found her huddled behind the tree. His eyes widened in panic as he dropped to his knees beside her. "Are you all right? What happened?"

"No, the kid–"

"He disappeared on me once we got to the bottom," he told her, wincing in apology. "He was too far ahead of me, and he ended up taking one turn too many."

Emma groaned and banged the back of her her head against the tree trunk in frustration. They'd lost him. They'd lost one of the only really good leads they'd had because she tripped over a goddamned tree root. In the five seconds it had taken for her to fall and for David to slow down to check on her, the boy had pulled ahead enough to disappear.

That expletive slipped from her mouth again, unbidden. Then she realized she'd just sworn quite badly in front of her father, of all people. God-freakin'-_dam_mit. "I'm sorry," she whispered, cringing.

"It's all right, Emma," he assured her, gripping her hand. She looked up sharply but calmed down slightly when she caught the love in his eyes. "You're frustrated, worried, _and_ injured. I'd be surprised if you weren't swearing."

She allowed a tiny smile at that. He smiled back and continued, "We'll get another lead sooner rather than later, and I promise you, we will find Henry. Right now, though, I'm more concerned about you. What happened?"

"Tree root," she grumbled, glaring in the direction of the exposed root. "I tripped on it and twisted my ankle. I can move it so it's not broken but ..."

"You can't stand on it," he finished for her when she let her sentence trail off. She nodded.

David took a deep breath and shifted position, sitting down on the ground in front of her. "I need to take a look at it, which means I need to take your boot off."

Her immediate reaction was to shake her head no. Getting her boot off was going to hurt like _hell_. She'd once tripped up the stairs as a kid while wearing snow boots and ended up wrenching her ankle a second time trying to take off the boot.

"I know, Emma, but I need to check it out."

She knew he was absolutely correct. He had to examine her ankle. Plus, if she had indeed sprained it, her ankle was going to swell. If they didn't get her boot off now, they might not be able to get it off later.

Sighing in defeat, she nodded at him. The she leaned her head back against the tree trunk and squeezed her eyes shut. "All right, I'll go slowly," he said to her.

"No," she insisted, opening her eyes. "Like a Band-Aid. Just do it and get it over with."

He smiled at her as she lifted her leg off the ground. He gently placed her foot across his knees and grasped the heel of her boot. The second he gave a tug, sharp pain shot up her entire leg. Hot tears pricked her eyes, causing her to squeeze them shut again. An undignified whimper escaped her lips, because damn it, that _hurt_. "I'm sorry," he whispered while slipping off her boot as carefully as he could.

As soon as it was off, her ankle started to throb. Shit, shit, shit, maybe this was a bad idea. The boot had been applying pressure to the injury and now that the pressure was gone, the pain had exploded. She whimpered again, clenching the fallen leaves littering the jungle floor in her hands just for something to squeeze.

"Almost done, Emma," David assured her. She opened her eyes when she felt him grasp the top of her sock. At least the sock could be stretched, and it slipped off far more easily than the boot had.

The removal of her sock revealed an angry purple bruise already beginning to form around her ankle. Well, shit. That was _not_ a good sign. Emma flicked her eyes up to David, who had paled when he saw the extent of his baby girl's injury.

Then his fatherly instincts must have kicked in. He schooled his features before meeting her eyes and giving her a comforting smile. "It's all right. We just have to get you back to camp so we can treat this."

Oh, _crap_. How in the hell was she going to get back to camp? As it stood now, she and David were halfway down the ravine, and they had chased the Lost Boy through the jungle for a couple hundred yards before he'd turned this way. The mere thought of making her way back to camp in her condition was exhausting. Not to mention friggin' painful.

And yet, Emma knew she had to try. They couldn't sit here for the rest of eternity, for one. There was a mission to accomplish, and sitting here was not getting either of them any closer to Henry. And for another, the two of them needed to get back to safety. Out in the open like this, with Emma unable to defend herself … she didn't even want to think of all the ways things could go wrong.

"Okay," she said to David, setting her shoulders to prepare herself for her next request. "Can you help me get my boot back on?"

Once again, he paled. "Emma–"

"We can take it off again once we get back to camp. I can't very well limp through the jungle in just my sock. Plus, the the boot will help give my ankle some support while we're walking."

David heaved a sigh but he couldn't deny that his daughter had a couple of decent points. Taking a deep breath himself, he helped her slip the boot back on her foot. Emma was pleased to note that it didn't hurt nearly as much going on as it did coming off. Hopefully she'd be able to put some weight on it now. The alternative was David carrying her up the ravine and back to camp, which, no way in hell.

A quick test proved that her ankle could indeed hold some weight and wouldn't automatically send her tumbling back down to the ground. With a combination of leaning against the tree for support and David helping her up, she managed to stand. "Are you going to be all right to walk?" he asked her, concern swimming in his eyes.

Emma shifted her weight on her feet to perform another quick test. Standing full weight on her right foot was a huge no-no, but limping would probably be all right. For a little while, at least. "Yeah, I should be okay," she replied, forcing a smile.

Of course, a father knew his child. David saw right through her faked smile so before she even took her first step, he took her arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. She gasped at the suddenness of his action and tried to pull away but he held firm.

Well, shit. Since struggling against his hold would only diminish the energy she needed to get back to camp, she gave up the fight with a frustrated huff. If he wanted to help her walk, then whatever.

She was almost embarrassed to note that her ankle already felt a little better with being able to lean on him. He caught her eye and smiled at her. For some reason, she found herself shyly smiling back in gratitude.

No one needed to know any of that, though. Once they got back to camp, there was sure to be a flurry of activity; concern from Snow and probably Hook and more than likely derision from Regina. The last thing Emma needed was for any of them to see her limping in her father's arms.

And then he winked at her, and she immediately felt so much better about the whole David having to support her thing. He was silently telling her that he would keep this little moment of her weakness between the two of them. Thank friggin' goodness.

Now came the hard parts: making her way back to camp on a bad ankle and keeping her mother from flipping the hell out when they arrived.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Once again, you all are the most amazing readers ever. Thank you for the reviews and follows and favorites!  
**Author's Note, Part the Second:** My apologies if you end up seeing this twice. I was trying to go over it in Live Preview for typos and such, but I was having issues making it show up. Weird!

* * *

It turned out that deciding to limp through the jungle on a most likely sprained ankle was not one of the five best ideas Emma had ever had. First of all, her injury meant that traveling even the slightest bit of distance was painstakingly arduous and ridiculously slow going. Second of all, the activity was not at all doing wonders for her pain level. Her ankle had begun throbbing within the first few steps, and climbing up out of the ravine? Forget it.

By the time she and David reached the top, Emma's ankle was throbbing so badly that she had to slouch against her father to take as much weight off of it as possible. Holy friggin' shit, this was _torture_. As much as she hated crutches, she would have welcomed a pair with open arms right about now.

"Let's stop for a bit, all right?" David said, comfortingly running his hand over her upper arm. "You need a few minutes off that ankle."

"No," Emma replied, cringing at how shaky her voice sounded. "No, I just want to get this over with."

And there was that look in her father's eyes, that look that was equal parts tender affection and loving comfort with just a touch of parental concern. "Emma, there's no sense in making your injury worse for the sake of getting back to camp quickly. If you need to rest, you should rest."

Emma felt a familiar conflict stir within her at his words. The independent side of her – the part of her that took offense to _anyone_ telling her what she should or should not do because she'd taken care of herself quite well up until now, thank you very much – wanted to insist that she knew exactly what she was doing. However, somewhere deep inside her was a parentless little girl, and that parentless little girl was thrilled to have her father there beside her, thrilled to have her father be more than willing to take care of her if she needed.

In the end, it was the independent side of her that won out. For one thing, she wouldn't be able to truly get off her ankle for any length of time until they got back to camp. The other – and, in her mind, more important – thing was that she couldn't allow David to remain out in the open any longer than strictly necessary. She couldn't move fast enough to defend either one of them, and there was no way he would leave her and save himself if they ran into any trouble.

If Pan or even one of the Lost Boys found them right now … well, as Henry would say, it would be bad.

"I don't need the rest," she said, looking up at her father and forcing a smile. "I'm okay to keep going."

The expression on his face made it clear that he knew she wasn't okay but also that he knew he wouldn't be able to talk his stubborn daughter into resting for a moment. Instead, he shifted his arm around her shoulders, holding her closer so he could support more of her weight. If she was going to insist on walking, he apparently was going to help her as much as he could.

Emma set her shoulders and focused on the path ahead of her. There were only a couple hundred yards to camp, give or take. She could totally do this. With a deep breath to prepare herself, she began limping forward.

It took quite a bit longer than Emma anticipated for her and David to reach the edge of the clearing where their ragtag little rescue team had set up camp for the night. Her stomach was churning from the pain, and once or twice along the way, she honestly thought she'd been on the verge of vomiting. On some level, she knew that meant her injury was worse than she'd wanted to believe but all she could focus on right now was saving face in front of everyone.

She drew to a stop just inside the tree line and pulled out of her father's grasp, breathing heavily against the pain. David, of course, objected. "Emma–"

"No," she softly but sternly insisted, shaking her head. Then she squeezed her eyes shut when her stomach did flip-flops at the motion. "I'm walking into that clearing by myself."

David's fatherly concern was written across his features. "I don't think that's a good idea. Your ankle–"

"–will be fine for the ten steps it'll take to make it through those trees." She met her father's eyes, silently pleading with him to let her do what she wanted. "I know you and Mary Margaret are behind me but Regina and Hook aren't following my lead right now because they want to. The last thing I need is to give them any reason to doubt me. I have to walk into the clearing on my own."

David gave her a look that she didn't quite know how to interpret. There again was the affection and comfort but this time there was something … wistful and pained mingled in as well. "They wouldn't doubt you," was all he said to her.

"Are you kidding?" she shot back, arching an eyebrow at him. "Regina's just itching for something to prove that I can't handle being the leader. Yeah, I hurt my ankle, but we still have a mission here and I'm still the one running it. Please let me do this."

They stared each other down for a beat before David let out a defeated breath through his nose. Then he nodded at her, though it was clear he was not at all happy about it.

"Thank you," she said, giving him a soft, grateful smile. Then she once again set her shoulders and limped into the clearing.

The second she stepped through the trees, the three people who had remained behind at the campsite could tell that something had happened while Emma and David had been away. Hook and Snow both paled when they saw her limping, and Regina sat up straight in her spot by the fire. "What happened?" Snow cried, running forward and taking her daughter's hands.

From behind her, David rested his hands on her shoulders. She allowed his touch to comfort her and give her strength. "I twisted my ankle chasing after the Lost Boy," she admitted, her eyes darting from Regina to Hook and finally focusing on her mother. She could see the panic in Snow's eyes over the notion that her daughter had been hurt in any way, and she felt the need to give her a small smile in an effort to reassure her.

It didn't work, but neither of them had the opportunity to address it, because Regina spoke up, crossing her arms over her chest. "Since there is no Lost Boy in either your or David's possession, I assume that means he outran the both of you."

"The Lost Boys have the run of this island," David replied evenly while comfortingly squeezing his daughter's shoulders. "They know all the nooks and niches in which to hide."

Not content to let David fight her battles for her – because she was still the damn leader of this mission – Emma also addressed Regina's point, looking her in the eye as she did so. "He was a spy, and he won't be the only one. We'll get another chance."

Regina softened and nodded in slight acquiescence to both their points. That small delay was apparently all Snow would allow, because she tugged on Emma's hands in an attempt to walk her to a fallen log in the middle of their camp. "Come. We need to take a look at your ankle."

"It's really fine," Emma insisted, because good God, this was embarrassing. Her father was still gripping her shoulders and her mother wanted to lead her by the hands, for crying out loud.

"Forgive me for saying so, love, but the expression on your face says otherwise," Hook spoke up for the first time since she'd arrived back at camp. Concern was swimming in his eyes, too, concern that went beyond the typical worry over someone in their little rescue brigade being injured. Had she been doing that poor a job of concealing how much her ankle friggin' _killed_? "You would do well to get off your injury and let someone examine it."

Emma once again darted her eyes around the camp. Hook and Snow were both clearly worried for her. Regina, of course, was barely concealing her impatience with all the fussing, but Emma could see a bit of concern on her features as well. It was probably just concern over how Emma's injury was going to affect the mission, but still, there was indeed concern underneath her Evil Queen iciness.

It wasn't until David once again gave her shoulders a squeeze that she stepped forward and allowed her parents to walk her over to the log. Honestly, fighting their parental hovering was exhausting, far too exhausting for her to handle in her current state. Regina watched her movement, and after David carefully removed her boot a second time – walking on it had made it swell up like a balloon, which made the boot removal process painful as all get-out – Regina winced the second she caught sight of Emma's ankle.

Emma had to admit that it _looked_ excruciating, and sweet mother of God, it was. If only Neverland had a stockpile of Tylenol lying around somewhere.

"Oh, Emma," Snow whispered as she stared down at her daughter's swollen and bruised ankle. A split second later, she caught herself. She wiped the concern off her face and gave Emma a smile full of comfort and affection instead. "It's all right. We'll just wrap it and have you stay off of it for a little bit. At least until the swelling goes down, anyway."

"Wrap it with what?" Emma asked, arching an eyebrow at her mother. "It's not like there's a CVS right around the corner." Although, she really kind of wished there was.

Of course, she should have known that people who had grown up in a land without pharmacies would have plenty of workarounds for modern medical equipment. "No, but that doesn't mean we can't substitute," David said, holding up some palm fronds he'd collected.

Apparently Hook had been complicit in this little bit of foraging for substitutes because he handed David a long vine with which to secure the makeshift wrap. "Great," Emma grumbled to no one in particular. "We're reduced to MacGuyvering an Ace bandage for me."

Though none of them quite understood her reference, Snow and David both hid a smile. Hook smirked at her grumpiness while Regina simply rolled her eyes.

Still, a MacGuyvered Ace bandage was the only thing they had, so Emma sat still while David and Hook worked together to wrap the fronds around her ankle. Snow got to work creating as comfortable a little resting nook for her injured daughter as she could, and Regina watched everything out of the corner of her eye while pretending to focus her attention on stoking the campfire.

"That's not too tight, is it?" David asked softly after he and Hook finished the wrap.

Very glad that their contact with her tender ankle was over, Emma shook her head. No, it was not at all too tight. As a matter of fact, it had once again put pressure on the injury, which quelled the throbbing. David smiled at her and wound the vine around the wrap to hold it in place. He tied it off with a knot, reminding her of the ribbons on a ballet shoe.

Then he and Hook both helped her over to the nook Snow had created for her. "You all right, love?" Hook asked as she got herself settled.

"My kingdom for some pain killers, but yeah, I'm all right."

David and Snow both crouched beside her, one on either side. Once again, that familiar conflict fluttered in her chest. Independent Emma Swan was uncomfortable with and somewhat annoyed by their concern, but the little girl Emma once was was pretty much jumping for joy at the notion of her parents flanking her, ready to shower her with love. "I wish we had some ice for you," Snow said. She held out her hand as if to run a finger down Emma's cheek but stopped herself at the last minute.

At that, Regina spoke up. "There's something I could do … a magical ice pack of sorts. If you're interested."

Emma glanced from one parent to the other and then over at Hook. All of them looked as wary as she felt. And then something in David's expression shifted, making a small smile tug at her lips. He trusted her. Not Regina, but Emma, and if Emma trusted Regina to perform magic on her, then he was fine with it.

And honestly, the thought of even a little bit of cold on her throbbing ankle was freakin' heaven right about now.

She looked over at Regina and nodded. "I'm interested."

Regina stepped over to her and gently placed her hand on the palm wrap surrounding Emma's ankle. After a long moment, the fronds began to frost over and then became ice cold. The cold leached away the pain as it numbed her ankle and entire lower leg. "Thank you," she sighed, her eyes closing in sweet relief as Regina pulled her hand away.

"You're welcome, Ms. Swan. The palm will warm up naturally, so it's not a permanent solution, but it's better than nothing."

Yes, yes it was. _Much_ better than nothing. Emma opened her eyes and gave Regina a small, grateful smile. Snow took one of her hands and squeezed. And when David wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her closer to him, she let him. Her dad wanted to protect and comfort her, and maybe it was just the ice talking, but it felt wonderful.

Not that she would ever admit that out loud, but still.


	3. Chapter 3

Regina's spell-made ice packed worked its … well, magic so thoroughly that Emma was halfway to dozing when David released his light grip on her shoulders and carefully stood up in an effort not to disturb her. She tried to tell herself that it was his movement and not the sudden loss of warmth that startled her back to awareness, but a niggling little voice in her head insisted it was the other way around. In an effort to shut it up and focus on anything else, she turned to her mother with a bewildered expression.

Snow smiled at her. "He'll be right back. He and Hook are trying to make a splint for you."

Emma cast a glance over her shoulder, and sure enough, Hook was disappearing into the trees with her father. She turned back to her mother as Snow's previous words finally registered. "A splint? What the hell are they going to use to make a splint?"

"That's what they're looking for now, actually," Snow admitted.

Fantastic. As if it wasn't bad enough that they'd had to MacGyver an Ace bandage out of palms fronds. Now David and Hook were going to MacGuyer a splint out of, what, sticks and leaves? God, Neverland sucked so damn hard. She almost preferred the ogres in the Enchanted Forest to this.

Almost.

Suddenly uncomfortable, Emma shifted position, causing Snow to loosen her grip on her hand. "Is everything all right?" she asked, concern immediately knotting her brow. On the other side of the fire, Regina rolled her eyes but remained silent.

"I'm fine," Emma assured her mother while fighting the urge to roll her own eyes. "I'm just trying to get comfortable."

She must have sounded more annoyed than she intended because Snow gave her a sheepish smile. "Sorry. I just wanted to make sure that you weren't suffering in silence over there."

Regina snorted somewhat in amusement but mostly in derision. "Nothing about Ms. Swan is silent."

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma saw her mother tense, clearly taking offense on her daughter's behalf to the Queen's statement. Emma, though, simply smirked at her son's adoptive mother. "Takes one to know one," she retorted, because honestly, Regina was not one to cast stones when it came to being loud and in one's face.

Regina once again rolled her eyes at Emma's comeback but she also didn't argue any further, which was Emma's intention.

As soon as Emma stopped fidgeting, Snow again tightened her hand around her daughter's. This time, Emma squeezed back, an indication that she appreciated the comfort.

See, there were _some_ things she could do silently.

For a long moment, the three of them simply sat together and stared into the fire. The fronds surrounding Emma's ankle had begun to warm back up to normal temperature, which meant that the pain was slowly coming back. It started as a barely there ache but as the palms lost more and more of their frost, the ache became deeper and deeper. Soon it was the only thing Emma could focus on, and for reasons entirely unclear to her, she wished her father was beside her, too.

No sooner had the thought flitted through her mind than both David and Hook emerged from the trees into the clearing. They were carrying all manner of sticks, ferns, and vines that they were going to somehow fashion into a Neverland splint. _Hey, look at that_, Emma thought somewhat sardonically as she watched them approach the fire, _a power I didn't even know I had_.

That joking thought made her breath catch in her throat. She had magic … _did_ she have that power? Could she really command people with nothing more than her thoughts?

_No_, she thought, shaking her head at herself. Of course she couldn't. That was utterly ridiculous! Clearly, the pain was making her delirious.

Right?

She shook her head again, this time as if to clear it. "You look like you could use a drink, love," a pleasantly accented voice said to her, startling her out of her reverie. She blinked to find Hook holding his flask pretty much in her face.

Even though she was sure the pirate had other things on his mind by offering her alcohol, she made a swipe for the flask. "This means nothing," she said as she put the mouth of the flask to her lips, because the last thing she needed was to give him any ideas.

"If you say so, darling," he said, grinning and winking at her.

Emma just rolled her eyes; that man was impossible. Getting drunk was not exactly high on her priority list, but she did have to admit that the numbing quality of the alcohol was a rather pleasant thought at the moment. After all, there was a reason why it was called "feeling no pain."

She did not mistake the glare her mother sent Hook as she swallowed a large gulp of the pirate's rum. Emma again squeezed her mother's hand, this time a silent signal to stand down. In his own way, Hook was just trying to help. Granted, he was going about it in the most obnoxious way possible, but still, his intention was to be helpful. Snow took a deep, cleansing breath and squeezed her daughter's hand back, letting her know that she understood.

The rum burned all the way down to her stomach. Hook's rum was unlike any other rum Emma had ever had. It was at the same time sweet and spicy but it went down smoothly. She'd never asked where he got it, mostly because she was afraid he would tell her he got it in like, Narnia or some other place she'd always assumed was fantasy.

Then again, maybe it was his own brand, because there was something uniquely … Hook about it, too. Maybe there was a still somewhere on the Jolly Roger. Or maybe it was magic rum and he just had an endless supply of it. Anything was possible at this point, she supposed.

She handed the flask back to him, giving him a small smile as a thank you for the drink. He smiled back and left her with her parents, sitting on the opposite side of the fire, next to Regina. He began weaving the palm fronds together to create some kind of webbing.

When David reclaimed his seat next to Emma, she immediately – and involuntarily – relaxed. She had no idea what it was about having David next to her that comforted her so much, but … well, there it was. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he tied the sticks he'd collected together with vines.

Hook crossed over to David to hand over the webbing when he finished with it and then sat back down next to Regina. Before Emma's eyes, the splint came together in her father's hands. He'd actually based it on a real-world Aircast, with the webbing meant to go under the sole of her foot and two rigid sides to be tied in place on the inside and outside of her lower leg.

How in the hell did he know how to do this stuff?

"We're going to need to wrap something soft around your ankle to cushion it against the sticks," he said as he held the splint out to her. "A T-shirt or something, but come morning, you should be able to walk with the help of this thing."

"Thank you," she breathed, holding the makeshift splint in her hand. Damn, this thing was kind of badass. How come she never knew her father was so handy? She turned an amazed look on her mother, who simply smiled at her.

"You're very welcome, Emma," David replied softly. From the amount of love in his eyes, she gathered that he would have gladly made a hundred of these suckers for her if she'd needed. It was at the same time comforting and overwhelming.

"Perfect. We can continue the search in the morning as planned, then," Regina spoke up from the other side of the fire, effectively killing the small family moment.

"Yes, of course," Emma sighed. Not that she'd had any intention of not continuing the search in the morning. She would have limped through the jungle on a sprained ankle for days if she'd had to in order to find Henry. At least now her ankle would have some proper support while she did so.

Once she got her assurance that the search would indeed continue, Regina turned in for the night. Hook volunteered for first watch, which was just fine with everyone else. Emma remained in her little nook and her parents remained with her. No one said anything; they were content to just sit with each other.

Eventually the heat from the fire, the comfort of her parents, and the exhaustion of the day combined to make Emma sleepy. She struggled against it until her mother squeezed her hand and whispered, "Stop fighting it, Emma."

Before she had a chance to question it, her parents were helping her lie down. Her head came to rest on something soft, and she could tell just from the scent clinging to the fabric that it was her father's coat. It was a distinct aroma of aftershave and cologne and something that was uniquely David, something that made her feel ... safe. Her accommodations in the Enchanted Forest certainly hadn't included a pillow made out of her father's coat.

An involuntary smile tugged at her lips at the thought as sleep washed over her.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** My apologies for the delay; it's been a rough and busy couple of days. Hope you enjoy this next part!

* * *

The constant pain of a sprained ankle combined with the emotional upheaval of kidnapped sons and portal-jumping into what Emma had thought were imaginary worlds apparently made for awful, awful dreams. Horrifying images filled Emma's mind that night. Horrifying images that flitted from one to the other, kicking her from one awful situation to another with no breathing room in between.

One second she would be chasing Henry through the Neverland jungle only to lose him around a turn on the path and the next second she would find Henry much too late to do anything for him. The second after that, she would watch glowing green portals swallow everyone whole … her parents and Henry and Hook and Regina. Everyone but Emma herself, leaving her alone in Neverland with no way to get home.

And then sometimes she would catch a whiff of something that smelled familiar or she would feel something soft on her cheek, and the dreams would fade. They always came back, though, when the comforting scent was carried off into the wind or the softness on her cheek vanished.

It was just as well, then, that a dull throbbing in Emma's ankle drew her from her slumber. Once the relief that those awful dreams had indeed just been dreams had passed, frustration set in. Her ankle hadn't throbbed like this since before David and Hook had wrapped it for her, so what the hell? It was only after the veil of sleep lifted that she discovered the problem: she'd turned onto her side at some point, and her left leg had been resting dead weight for who knew how long on her right.

Groaning softly, she turned onto her back before pushing herself up into a sitting position. She drew her right knee to her chest and massaged her calf in an effort to ease the ache radiating up her leg.

"Are you all right?" a whispered voice asked.

Emma gasped and whipped her head around in the direction of the voice. David must have taken over for Hook on watch because he was sitting on the log, hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword in case he needed to draw quickly. A quick glance around the camp proved her instinct correct; Regina and Hook were both asleep on the other side of the fire, and her mother was curled up next to her.

"Sorry," David whispered, recapturing her attention. Emma could see in the firelight that he was cringing. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's okay," she assured him softly. "And yeah, I'm all right."

She set her shoulders and took a deep breath to prepare herself before carefully getting to her feet. A frown of concern knotted David's brow as he stood up from the log, hands out as if ready to help her. Emma shook her head at him; she wanted to do this by herself. If she couldn't take the few steps to the log on her own now, she didn't stand a chance of limping through the jungle in the morning. David nodded at her but he didn't sit, not until she made her way over to the log and sat down on it herself.

"I can check the wrap if your ankle's bothering you," he offered, his eyes filled with sympathy and comfort. "It might need a little tightening."

That was actually a really good point. Emma reached down to check, and sure enough, the vine holding the wrap in place had loosened somewhat while she was asleep. She turned to face him, lifting her right leg up and letting it rest on the log. He smiled at her and got to work.

For a long moment, she just watched him. His fingers moved deftly as he untied the vine, and his hands worked gently as they removed the palm fronds from around her ankle. Never once did he put too much pressure on her injury and never once did he linger over what he was doing. He simply did it, expertly and efficiently.

After removing the last frond, he took a moment to examine her injury. Emma tore her eyes off of him then and focused on her ankle as well. Apparently the wrap had helped; though the dark purple bruise remained, her ankle was nowhere near as swollen as it was earlier. She looked up at David, waiting for his thoughts on the subject. "Swelling's gone down," he said, smiling gently at her. "That's a good sign."

For some strange reason, Emma found herself unable to speak. She nodded instead, and when he picked up the fronds to begin wrapping her ankle back up, she had to swallow hard against the sudden lump that had formed in her throat.

_Stop being ridiculous, Swan_, she commanded herself. But the thing was, she'd never had this. She'd never had someone treat an injury of hers with such loving care. He wasn't just placating her, nor was her injury a burden to him. She was hurt and he was treating her, not because he had to but because he wanted to. Because he loved her and he wanted to make sure her injury healed properly and that she was as comfortable as she could be in the meantime.

It was overwhelming. Not the "Calgon, take me away" kind of overwhelming, but the "this is _really_ nice and I could get used to it" kind of overwhelming.

Which in and of itself terrified her. There was that conflict again … part of her didn't _want_ to get used to it and part of her wanted it so desperately. Part of her didn't want to admit that she needed her father and part of her really, really did.

It made no sense, and in all honesty, Emma's tumbling thoughts were making her brain hurt. So, in an effort to get her mind focused on _anything_ else, she asked, "Where did you learn how to do this?"

David looked up at her, his surprise at her question evident. Then his surprise faded into a smile, making it clear that he was touched she was taking an interest. "When you grow up on a farm in a realm with no major medical centers, you learn to make do," he replied, his gentle hands still working on her wrap. "Granted, we had rags or other clothing to use as wraps if needed, but I learned the basics on the farm, at any rate. As for how I knew palm fronds would work? I didn't. I just knew I needed something flexible enough to wrap but thick enough to give your ankle some support."

A soft smile curled onto Emma's lips as well. David really had MacGyvered this thing, hadn't he? He'd completely made it up on the fly! "And you knew I needed a splint the same way?"

David nodded. "The fronds are all right when you're sitting but they're not strong enough to support your ankle through the rigors of walking. Plus, I didn't want to worry about the fronds themselves tearing. You needed something stiffer to support your ankle while still allowing you to move. I explained to Hook what I wanted it to look like – the Aircasts I'd seen at Storybrooke General – and he helped me find the right materials."

Again, Emma had to swallow a sudden lump in her throat. She wasn't used to this much thought being put into her and her needs. Any time she'd gotten injured as a child, she'd been made to feel like her injury was putting everyone else out. And if she'd gotten injured as an adult, well, it wasn't like she'd had a whole group of friends and family willing to help her out.

It felt _so nice_ to have someone treat her like she mattered, and yet, she was kind of afraid of it, too. Afraid that she would get used to it and it would go away. Since she desperately needed to get her comfort level back where it belonged, she said, "Well, you did a damn good job, because that thing is badass. I can't wait to try it out."

David chuckled as he finished the wrap and tied it off. "How does that feel?"

The wrap had once again stopped the throbbing in her ankle, which made an involuntary smile curl on Emma's lips. "Much better," she said.

"I'm glad."

She turned to face the fire, bringing her foot back down to the ground. A comfortable silence fell between them as they both made themselves comfortable on the log.

Emma stared at the fire, oblivious to her father's eyes on her. This damn island was messing with her head. All she could think of now was how much she hated the nighttime as a kid. Nothing was lonelier than staring out at the pitch-black night and knowing deep in her heart that she didn't belong where she was but she didn't belong anywhere else, either.

Suddenly her thoughts turned to Henry. She wondered if he was scared or lonely. She wondered if he knew they were coming for him.

As if he could read her mind, David's soft voice drew her from her tense reverie. "We're going to find him, Emma, and we're going to bring him home."

"I just wish I knew he was okay," she replied, sighing softly. "I … I miss him."

"Of course you do." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him tentatively reach out to her. At first she thought he was going to put his arm around her shoulders again and was surprised when she felt him run his hand over the back of her head. "And of course he's okay. He has you and Regina for parents and Snow and me for grandparents. That boy comes from some pretty tough and stubborn stock."

Emma smirked. That was certainly the truth.

"He's fine," David continued softly, "and he knows we're looking for him."

Though she wasn't sure she believed that or not, Emma nodded anyway. She liked the idea of it, at any rate, so she had to hope that it was the truth.

Once again, they sat in silence. After a few minutes, Emma's eyelids began to get heavy. "You should go back and rest," David whispered to her.

Those nightmare images were still fresh in her mind, however, so she shook her head in response to her father's suggestion. "Can I just sit here for a little while?"

The "with you" was implied.

Another touched smile lit David's face. "Of course."

This time when he stretched his arm out towards her he did wrap it around her shoulders. Maybe it was the coziness of the fire or maybe it was the descending exhaustion she was trying and failing to fight, but Emma found herself almost unconsciously leaning into her father's embrace. And when she felt him place a gentle kiss on the top of her head, she smiled to herself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Here, have some cotton-candy fluff. I apologize for nothing. ;)

* * *

The morning sunshine beating down on Charming's face slowly pulled him from sleep. As he woke up a bit, he became aware of soft strands of hair tickling his nose. He smiled without opening his eyes and was halfway to draping his arm over the hip of the person snuggled up next to him when the scent registered: it wasn't Snow.

He hadn't gone to sleep beside Snow last night. After Regina had taken over on watch, he and Emma had gone back to bed ... with Emma settling down between him and Snow.

Charming's eyes snapped open and sure enough, he found himself staring down at a blonde head. His baby girl was facing him, curled up on her side and cuddled up as closely as possible without being on top of him. If the deep rhythm of her breathing was anything to go by, she was still _very_ asleep.

A confusing combination of pure love and deep longing filled Charming's heart. He brushed his daughter's hair out her eyes and just looked at her for a long moment. Without her guard up and with the worry and turmoil temporarily held at bay by the oblivion of sleep, she looked so _young_. So much like the little girl he wished he could have known. And the fact that if she woke now, she would only throw her walls up higher and thicker than ever only made him all the more aware of the time he'd missed.

This closeness with his baby … it should have been easy. She should have been able to accept his love and his comfort without a struggle, and it was a struggle for which he felt solely responsible. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that sending her through that wardrobe was the only way to save her, and he would have done it again in a heartbeat. But sending her through that wardrobe had also condemned her to a life of loneliness that had damaged her more than he ever thought possible.

She hadn't deserved it. None of them had, obviously, but she was one of the most innocent – if not _the_ most innocent – victims of Regina's curse.

But at the same time, Charming was thrilled to have his daughter so close to him now. She was snuggled up against him so tightly that if he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that she was four years old and he was her daddy and they were just spending a lazy hour or two together before getting up to start the day.

The depth of her slumber gave him courage, and he chanced placing a light kiss on the top of her head. "Good morning, sweetpea," he whispered, trying out a nickname he'd decided he wanted to call her the day Snow told him she was pregnant. Of course, if Emma ever caught him calling her that now, all hell would surely break loose. Just the thought of it made him smirk.

"I thought you were awake," a voice whispered back.

For a nerve-wracking split second, Charming thought Emma had indeed awakened. A breath of relief escaped his lips when he recognized the whisper as his wife's. He propped himself up on one elbow to peek over his daughter's shoulder and there was his Snow, sitting on the log on watch, bow and arrow at the ready. A quick glance around the camp proved that they were alone. "Where are Hook and Regina?"

"Trying to scrounge up some breakfast," Snow replied softly. "I said I'd keep watch over the two of you, let you both sleep a little longer."

Charming smiled at her before glancing down at his sleeping daughter. "Were you aware that she's a bed hog?" he asked, his amused gaze meeting his wife's equally amused one.

Snow nodded. "Every morning in the Forest was the exact same. She doesn't like sleeping outside. It'd always take her a long time to fall asleep so she'd still be dead to the world in the morning. I'd wake to find her cuddled up with me and I'd take a few minutes, just to relish being so close with her. Then I'd scoot over and wake her. As far as I know, she never found out. It was chilly in the Forest at night, so I used to think she was unconsciously seeking warmth but …"

"Now you're thinking that she might have been seeking comfort," Charming finished for her. It certainly wasn't cold in Neverland at night, but she'd still snuggled closely in her sleep. What else could she have been seeking?

Snow's eyes had begun to brim with unshed tears. Charming smiled gently as he held his hand out to her. She slid off the log and sat down on the ground next to him, gripping his hand tightly. "We missed so much, Charming," she whispered, sniffing back tears. "We missed everything and she grew up so alone."

Though he didn't think he wanted to know, he felt the need to ask. "How much did she tell you? Mary Margaret you, I mean."

She hesitated for a brief moment, as if trying to determine her answer. "Not a lot, actually, but enough that I could read between the lines. The life she led, Charming … I wouldn't even wish what she went through on Regina. And I have no idea what to do to make it better."

"You don't know what to do because we can't make it better," Charming replied, choking up himself. How awful it must have been for his wife to mentally replay all those conversations Emma had with Mary Margaret and realize that it was her own decision that led their baby to have those experiences. "We can't turn back time and we can't change her past. What we can do, though, is be there for her now. We can love her now, and we can never let her forget that we love her."

Snow squeezed his hand while swallowing the rest of her tears. And in that moment, Charming knew she understood. The past was the past and it was done, but if they tried, the present could heal the past's wounds.

By the time she released his hand, she'd successfully shaken off the rest of her emotions. "We should let her sleep a little longer. We'll wake her when Hook and Regina return but for now … you should have a few minutes with her."

Charming shot his wonderful wife a grateful smile. She'd had those mornings with Emma in the Forest, so it was only fair that he should have at least this morning with Emma. He settled back down next to his daughter, who fidgeted in her sleep and nestled her head closer to his chest. Tears pricked the back of his eyes as he thought of the hundreds of mornings like this he should have had while she was growing up.

It was only when he heard voices in the jungle that he sat up, right hand automatically reaching for the sheathed sword laying above his makeshift pillow. The brief moment of panic fled when Regina and Hook emerged from the trees, Regina carrying a small basket of berries and Hook carrying a somewhat larger basket of eggs from some kind of Neverland bird. Charming had learned after his first Neverland meal not to ask exactly what he was eating. As long as Hook said it was edible, he ate it without question and tried to pretend he was eating something from Granny's or home on the farm.

Snow stepped over to help Hook and Regina get the meal together, leaving Charming to wake their daughter in peace. She was still so deeply asleep that it pained Charming to wake her. She clearly needed the sleep but he also knew that she wouldn't want them to allow her the rest. Not while Henry was out there somewhere.

A call of Emma's name and a somewhat rough shake of her shoulder forced her to turn onto her back with a groan. The morning sunshine did the rest, rousing her despite the arm she'd flung over her eyes. She groaned again as she blinked her eyes open, squinting against the sunlight. "Good morning, sleepyhead," Charming gently teased.

She wrinkled her nose at the playful nickname as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She glanced across the camp, mostly to find out where everyone was. Snow and Regina were cooking the eggs while Hook distributed the berries evenly. The pirate caught Emma's eye and smiled at her.

Emma gave him a sleepy smile back, her right hand shooting to her head to smooth down her tangled hair. Charming frowned but before he had any time to stew over his daughter smiling at and wanting to look good in front of a pirate, Emma hissed in pain. "What's the matter?" he asked her.

"I forgot," she grumbled, shaking her head at herself. "Just tried to stand up."

Meaning she'd just attempted to put full weight on her bad ankle. Charming winced in sympathy. "You all right?"

"Yeah."

Still, she didn't attempt to move again. Charming wasn't sure whether she was still half-asleep or whether she was avoiding trying to walk on her ankle. "Do you want me to check it again for you?"

She shrugged. "Sure."

Half-asleep it was, then. Still, he wasn't about to question it. He carefully unwrapped the palm fronds from around her ankle and examined the injury.

The rest and the compression had done their job overnight; the swelling had gone down completely. Even the bruising looked like it had faded a little bit. Of course, it remained to be seen how well she'd do walking but as of right now, it looked much better. "It looks good, Emma," he said, smiling up at his daughter, who looked relieved. "I'm going to wrap it back up, all right?"

"Okay."

He replaced the fronds in silence. After a long moment, she suddenly said, "Thanks, David."

Charming looked up at her, surprised. "For what?"

She gave an uncomfortable little shrug. "All of this."

There again was that ache in his heart. Taking care of her like this … it was his pleasure. He wanted to do it because he loved her, and it pained him that she felt she needed to thank him as if he were going out of his way to help her. "No thanks necessary," he told her, his voice soft. "I wish I could have been there for you like this your whole life."

She swallowed hard but remained silent. Afraid that he'd pushed her too far, Charming returned his attention to the wrap. He'd just begun knotting the vine when he heard her murmur, her voice so soft she clearly hadn't meant to be heard, "I do, too."

A relieved and touched smile pulled at his mouth. He finished the wrap, cupped her cheek in his palm, and said, "You ready for breakfast now?"

"Are you kidding?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "I'm _starving_."

Charming let out a chuckle. Vulnerable Emma was gone and strong and independent Emma was back in her place, but she had allowed him in, if only for a moment. It had felt wonderful.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** And we've come to another end. Thank you all so much for your reviews and follows and favorite. The kind words mean the world to me. Hope you've enjoyed this little daddy/daughter story! I've definitely enjoyed writing it. :)

* * *

A breakfast of berries and eggs was not exactly Emma's idea of the perfect morning meal. She would have killed for a side of bacon or a nice towering plate of chocolate chip pancakes smothered in maple syrup. Foraging for her meals had gotten old in the Enchanted Forest, and now here she was, in another magical land, once again eating whatever they could find.

There was certainly something to be said for supermarkets and restaurants and delivery.

Still, the berries and eggs were much better than nothing. They managed to take the edge off her hunger long enough to keep her going for a little while, anyway.

Everyone ate breakfast in silence. The simmering anxiety level of the whole group was palpable. Emma and Regina were both acutely aware of the minutes ticking by, all those minutes that Henry was out there somewhere with Pan. Hook alternated between listening for sounds in the jungle and darting his gaze to Emma in an effort to make sure she was handling everything as well as could be expected. And as for Snow and David … well, they were concerned about both Henry _and_ Emma.

Emma finished first and very carefully started to stand. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught both David and Hook starting to get up as well. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at them. She could damn well stand up on her own, thank you very much.

They must have gotten the hint because they both stayed put. Emma limped back over to the comfortable little nook her mother had set up for her the previous night. She needed to unwrap her ankle and put on her newly made splint, and she wanted to do so in peace.

Which would have been a fantastic plan if David hadn't tied off the vine with such a tight knot. She picked at it and poked at it to no avail. She was just about to try breaking the damn vine when David stepped up to her. "Do you want some help?"

Emma opened her mouth to insist that she could most definitely unwrap her own ankle without help. What came out instead surprised both her and David. "Sure."

What the _hell_? She'd already been far too dependent on David for her liking. She wasn't a little kid, and this wasn't the first time she'd sprained an ankle. She was an adult who'd been through this once or twice before, an adult who'd learned at a very young age that the only one she could depend on was herself. Plus, the last thing she needed was for Regina and Hook to think that she needed help getting a damn splint on her injury. She was leading this friggin' mission, and she needed them to take her seriously. She knew how to take care of herself. She'd had to do it her whole damn life; she certainly didn't need someone taking care of her now.

_You may not need it but you desperately want it_, a little voice inside her whispered as she watched David make quick work of the knot. He tenderly removed the palm fronds from her ankle, one by one and careful not to jostle her leg too much.

That little voice was more correct than Emma wanted to admit. Part of her _did_ want this. Part of her wanted someone to take care of her, wanted someone to help bear the weight. Handling things on her own was _exhausting_ … but on the other hand, relying on other people had never gone well for her. It was so hard to open herself up again, so hard to open herself up to the possibility of this love and this affection. Because although she wanted it more than words could express, this love and affection could go away, too … just like it always had.

She didn't think her parents would leave her, but she didn't think Neal would leave her, either, and look where that got her. But it didn't even have to be that simple. Something completely beyond anyone's control could always take them away from her. Look at what had happened with Henry. She and Regina had saved the damn town, gotten knocked out for their troubles, and when they came to, the kid was gone. Who was to say something similar couldn't happen to her parents?

What if she let them in only to lose them again? She honestly didn't think she'd be able to bear it.

And yet, there was something _so nice_ about having David take care of her. Something so nice and comforting, something that gave her a sense of _belonging_ so foreign to her but also so very heartwarming. She'd longed for this all her life and now here it was, finally within her reach.

In an effort to calm her tumbling thoughts, she tore her eyes off of David and instead darted her gaze over to the other side of their camp. Regina and Snow had begun to pack up their belongings so they could continue as soon as Emma was set with her splint. Hook, who was probably supposed to be helping Snow and Regina, had instead been watching her and David. He only turned away when he saw Emma look in his direction.

It hit Emma then that he'd been just as willing to help as David had been. He'd deferred to David, obviously, but he'd helped gather the materials for both the wrap and the splint, and he somehow managed to weave the webbing for the splint with only a hand and a hook. He'd been watching her, too, and he'd been trying to make sure that she was comfortable.

The attention was … unexpected. And, if she was being honest with herself, kind of nice.

"Emma?"

Her father's voice broke through her thoughts. She blinked at him. "Huh?"

"You spaced out on me," he said, attempting to smile through a worried expression. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, fine." She shook her head in an effort to regain her focus. "Did you ask me something?"

"I asked if we could test your range of motion before I put the splint on."

Emma wrinkled her nose. Testing range of motion had hurt like hell yesterday. She wasn't exactly looking forward to doing it again but she knew it was important to check if her injury had improved with the treatment her father had given her.

She drew both knees to her chest and lifted her right foot off the ground. David repositioned himself in front of her so he could get a closer look at her ankle. At his nod, she moved her foot first up until it hurt and then moved it down. Pointing her toes to the right was okay but pointing them to the left made her hiss in pain.

_Oh crap, oh crap_, she thought, her eyes immediately searching David's. The calm smile on his face relaxed her in an instant. "You did very well," he told her before reaching into Snow's backpack to find something to use as a cushion underneath the splint. "Your range of motion is much better today compared to yesterday."

"But I can't go left."

"Going left uses the muscles and tendons you wrenched the most. That was always going to be the motion that hurt worst. The splint will keep your ankle straight so you shouldn't have to worry about turning your foot to the left anyway. I was mostly concerned with the up and down motions."

Emma stared at her father, her jaw slightly open in amazement. How in the hell did he know all this stuff? Was he a battlefield medic in a past life or something?

Although, with what she knew about her parents' history, his being a battlefield medic may have not been far off the mark.

David grinned at her, amusement dancing in his eyes. He gently placed her right foot on his lap and wrapped an extra t-shirt of his that he'd dug out of the backpack around her ankle. Then he grabbed the splint and held it out to his daughter. "Ready for the trial run?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," Emma nodded. She accepted the splint and placed the webbing underneath the sole of her foot. Then, with a deep breath, she grasped the two sides and held them in place on either side of her leg. Even the pressure of her holding the splint against her ankle eased the pain a bit.

Her relief must have shown on her face because David smiled gently as he secured the splint around her leg with the vines. "How's that?"

"It feels really nice," she replied honestly.

Maybe it was the little girl within her who longed for her daddy to take care of her or maybe it was the adult within her who understood that he'd already seen her vulnerable so there was no harm in allowing another little bit of vulnerability, but she held out her hand for him to help pull her to her feet. A touched smile curled on his lips as he did so.

She stood, making sure to put most of her weight on her left foot. Then she let go of her father's hand and took a deep breath in preparation for the next couple of steps forward.

She felt utterly ridiculous. She was just going to walk, for crying out loud, something she'd been doing for literally as long as she could remember. It was as natural and automatic as breathing now, and yet, she was really freakin' nervous.

What if she couldn't walk even with the splint? What if she had to stay in hiding while everyone else searched for Henry?

No. That was not an option.

Emma took a hesitant step forward on her right foot and then on her left. The splint did provide her with a good amount of stability. It held her ankle still and the tied-together sticks were strong enough to help bear a bit of her weight. It wasn't a smooth, seamless walk by any stretch of the imagination but it wasn't a limp while leaning against someone for support, either.

"You look good, kiddo."

She turned around, eyebrows raised in surprise. Kiddo? Since when did David call her kiddo? She was about to say something to that effect when she caught the love and pride swimming in his eyes. All right, maybe she could live with one instance of him calling her kiddo. As long as it was only once and as long as no one else heard it, of course.

"Thank you, David," she said, her voice soft. She wasn't just thanking him for the compliment, of course. She was thanking him for everything.

Judging from the tender expression on his face, he knew. He stepped up to her and ran his thumb over her cheek, a smile born of pure love lighting his eyes. "Like I said earlier, no thanks necessary."

Emma smiled back at him before turning and making her way back to her little nook. After watching her struggle with attempting to get her boot on over her splint, David stepped over to help her with that, too.

This time she stood up on her own and helped David pack up their meager belongings. Then she made her way over to the middle of the clearing, where the other three members of the rescue squad were waiting. She caught her mother's eye and gave her a small smile before addressing Hook. "Where to now?"

"The last known place of Pan's compound," Hook replied. He handed her the cutlass with a wink. "Follow me."

Everyone traipsed off into the jungle after him. After a long moment, Emma sped up as much as her injured ankle would allow. When she caught up with Hook, she whispered, "Thank you for helping David … for helping me."

"No worries, love," he replied, shooting her a smile. "You need to be able to find your lad, and I need to make sure you're all right. Helping seemed to be the least I could do."

He sounded very sincere, more sincere than Emma was expecting. Her defenses shot straight up in response. "And just why do you need to make sure I'm all right?"

Hook glanced at her as if trying to determine whether to reply seriously or with a joke. He must have decided on the joke, because a lascivious grin curled on his lips as he said, "Well, we can't have you injured when we ..." He trailed off but waggled his eyebrows, letting the rest of the sentence speak for itself.

Emma rolled her eyes. "Yeah, keep dreaming."

"Oh, I shall."

She groaned. The man was most definitely impossible. He chuckled, winked at her, and then faced forward to focus on the path ahead of them.

Emma hung back and within a minute or two, her mother had caught up with her. "How are you doing?"

"All right," Emma shrugged. Granted, she was moving slower than normal but she was doing pretty damn well for her injury, if she did say so herself. "Did you know David was so good with the makeshift medical stuff?"

Snow smiled gently at her, eyes sparkling with love for both her husband and her daughter. "I did. I'm pretty handy at it, too, but ..." She let out a soft breath. "Thank you, Emma."

Emma frowned. "For what?"

Her eyes darted to her husband ahead of them on the path and then back to her daughter. "For giving him a chance to be your father."

A sudden lump formed in Emma's throat. She had given him a chance to be her father, hadn't she? Without even realizing it, she'd given him that chance, and he'd responded in kind, giving her the chance to be his daughter. They'd both given each other the same wonderful gift: the chance to be a family.


End file.
